An Imp's Breakfast
by Bryon Nightshade
Summary: Zero lets Axl talk him into leaving Hunter Base for a spell. He even lets Axl plan the activity for the trip. Yeah... he won't make that mistake again.


_Begin contingency plan review. Contingency plan one: teleport in armor, destroy attackers._

It was useful, Zero knew, to think ahead in case the worst happened. In a world of Mavericks, 'the worst' happened often enough.

_Contingency plan two: if area too dangerous to armor up, teleport self out, armor up safely, return to destroy attackers._

Planning efforts also occupied his mind. They gave him something to focus on. As crazy as this place was, he needed the help.

_Contingency plan three: if teleport shields go up, egress on foot to one of these three locations as situation demands, find the limits of the shields, revert to CP1 or 2._

He had identified early on ways to get out of here. Hunter doctrine demanded it—though of course he'd have done it anyway. He'd written that doctrine, after all.

Tactical insisted on it. Experience agreed.

_Contingency plan 4: take cover, call for backup._

He didn't know what to expect at a place like this, Maverick-wise or otherwise. He'd never been to this sort of venue. He didn't even have the words to call it what it was (a reploid dive bar). It was all Axl's fault. This was his kind of scene.

_Contingency plan 5: use concealed weapons for self-defense to buy time until some other contingency plan is viable._

He didn't think he'd need more than those light weapons, truth be told. He gave the crowd another scan, confirming his earlier assessments. The reploids here were generally low quality. Whether that was from shoddy construction or worse maintenance, he couldn't tell. Either way, even the strongest of them drew only mild interest from tactical.

Besides, Axl was here, and _he_ was fully armored. Not that anyone could tell. Zero glanced around, trying to spot his fellow S-class Hunter through his disguise. Ah, there he was. Axl could copy appearances, abilities, even voices, but his mannerisms were his alone.

Zero wondered if he was as distinct. He hoped not. At least the throng here hadn't recognized him so far. They'd probably only ever seen him on the newscasts, when he was acting as a Hunter.

His disguise was feeble compared to Axl's. Wholly unnecessary sunglasses changed the look of his face. The absence of armor and helmet reduced his profile even more, while oversized dark boots concealed his booster-feet. Most of all, his copious blonde hair was tucked into an even longer belted, dark trench coat.

All of Zero's contingency plans included, as a baseline assumption, shredding the trench coat in the first few milliseconds.

Against Zero's expectations, his anonymity seemed to be holding. X was right, as he so often was, about how little it took to disappear. When people weren't looking for something, they didn't see it.

Good thing, too—Axl's little plan counted on that fact.

"Hey, you in sleep mode or what?"

Zero's attention snapped to the other reploid at the table. Tactical had been keeping tabs on the situation, but his higher consciousness had wandered. Oh, right—speaking of the plan, it was time to play his part. He looked down at the table and surveyed his options. He picked one.

He hefted the flimsy, tapered stick and lined it up on the table behind a plain white sphere. He looked at its trajectory, did a little math—grimacing, he overrode his instincts and changed the math slightly. There. The stick slid back and forth in his hands, back and forth—tap.

The stick hit the white sphere, which hit two other spheres. One of those rolled across the table and fell down a hole with a satisfying 'thunk'. The white sphere, despite the impact, followed it, chasing it towards the hole. It was slowing, though—slowing—slowing…

Thunk.

Zero's face twitched in agitation.

"Bad time for a scratch," said the other reploid at the table, though he visibly relaxed. He walked over and retrieved the cue ball and the last of the striped balls from the pocket. "You said this is your first night playing pool?"

"Yes," said Zero through gritted teeth.

"Well, I'm sure you'll improve. You're already not bad. None of us comes out of the factory with the coding for this sort of thing, so we all have to learn." The reploid, in very businesslike motions, positioned the cueball on the table, lined up his shot, and sank the 8-ball. "Too bad you haven't learned quite enough yet. Looks like I win."

"Rust me," swore Axl, in the much-lower voice of his stolen appearance. "I was sure you had it that time, Null!"

Zero shrugged stiffly. "Maybe next time," he said.

"I believe in you," Axl said, nodding vigorously. "But I do owe our friend. It was… what, a hundred zenny a ball?"

"Times two," the reploid agreed, pointing to the striped ball still on the table.

"Times two," said Axl brightly. "Don't worry about me, we can keep going for a while—though I'm sure Null's ego would prefer he win a game or two every now and then, wouldn't it?"

Zero grunted mutinously.

"Two hundred zenny," Axl said, handing over the wager. Zero briefly wondered how Axl was funding this little venture. He had a habit of blowing through his modest wages as soon as they were deposited, and that was the third game they'd lost…

After further consideration, Zero decided he didn't want to know.

"We'll get 'em next time, won't we?" Axl said, clapping an arm across Zero's shoulders.

Zero scowled at Axl. He didn't reply. He was busy suppressing tactical's prompt to twist that arm into modern art.

Which Axl knew—he had to know. A cheeky wink from the changeling confirmed it for Zero. Axl wouldn't dare pull that stunt normally. It was only because he knew Zero was in-character that he'd get that bold.

How had Zero gotten into this? He let tactical handle surveying his surroundings while he thought back…

"_C'mon, Zero, even you have to blow off steam!"_

"_I don't run on steam, Axl. Neither do you."_

"_You know what I mean. Look, we hang around the Base way too much. We need to get out. Have some fun!"_

"_I get all of my satisfaction from my job."_

"_Well, great for you, but I'm not wired like that. I need more. I need some air!"_

"_You don't breathe, either."_

"_You know what I… you're doing it again! You know what, fine. If you won't go out with me, I'll just have to find my own fun here in the Base."_

_The threat gives Zero pause. He's seen Axl in action plenty of times. He knows just how much 'fun' a shapeshifter can get up to._

"_Are you begging for disciplinary action?"_

"_Oh come on, I wouldn't be caught doing anything ugly!"_

"'_Wouldn't be caught,' huh?"_

"_Orrr… we can go out on the town _together_, and you can chaperone me. You can make sure I never actually do anything ugly."_

"…"

It had taken a little more coaxing after that, but that was the gist of it. It was only after Zero had given in that Axl had explained his plan.

Tactical pinged higher consciousness. Zero's eyes snapped into focus on a newly-approaching reploid. His build was hardly any higher-quality than the others around him, but in his eyes, demeanor, and carriage, Zero saw enough to interest him.

There was an undefinable difference between combat vets and rookies. In the casual, practiced way they moved, wasting no motion, in control of themselves and their situation… this newcomer was showing all those signs. He moved with understated purpose.

Like a predator moves.

The crowd had noticed it too. The noise in the place had diminished, and an unusual number of eyes were taking in the three bodies at the pool table. Tactical kept raising alarms about how many potential enemies were targeting Zero. Some of that anxiety escaped in the form of fidgets.

Zero hoped it ended soon. He was dealing with enough irritation already.

"The name's Mako," the newcomer said, looking at Axl. "Heard your friend's a budding pool shark, eh?"

"Oh, you have no idea!" said Axl exuberantly.

"I play a little myself," Mako said. Zero could see him restraining his excitement. Zero knew that feeling well. He felt it himself, all the time, in the seconds before he went into combat. "It's a hobby, you know, a pastime. I think it'd be fun to have a go with your pal. You reckon he's up for a round or two?"

"I'm sure he is—aren't you, Null?"

It was a prompt. Zero forced his features to feign enthusiasm. "Yeah, okay," he said.

"Wonderful!" boomed Axl. "You and Mako, then!"

"I hope you don't object to laying a little action on it," Mako said smoothly. "A little stakes makes for a lot of fun, eh?"

"You read the message before I sent it," Axl said jovially. "I've been playing a little safe tonight, honestly, but I think I'm ready to upgrade! What would you say to four hundred zenny a ball?"

Murmurs spread through the onlookers. For a moment, the predator was startled—then, just as fast, excitement flashed across his face. Then it was gone, and the forced calm was back. "Sure, I'm game for that. Your buddy wanna break?"

"Of course he does," said Axl. He looked at Zero and gave an enormous wink. "Well, let's go! Don't let me down!"

Now there was almost no noise in the hall; this game was attracting ever more attention. Even Zero could recognize the hierarchy here; his opponent must be the 'big deal' here. That just meant more eyes watching them. Not Zero's idea of a good time.

Moving jerkily, he racked the balls, moved to the end of the table, and struck the cue ball. There was a crack as the balls flew out of their neat formation—but when they stopped moving, none had fallen into the table's pockets.

"A lot of energy to that," Mako commented. "Energy alone ain't enough, though." He hefted his cue much like Zero might heft a saber. His motions were economical and smooth. He was comfortable—a comfort born of certainty. Zero respected that.

This really was unfortunate.

Five balls were in pockets in the blink of an eye, to approving murmurs all around. When Mako didn't like the shots he had available, he pinned the cue ball behind the eight, denying almost any shot Zero would want. "You're up," he said.

Zero's cringe was genuine as he placed his cue. He managed to get the cue ball out from behind the eight, smacking into one of his balls in the process—but it didn't quite go into the pocket, and now the cue was in beautiful position for Mako. Like a true predator, he went for the kill immediately. Thunk, thunk, thunk—game over.

"That's a good game," said Mako, luxuriously, to a backdrop of quiet applause. "So, about that side action…"

"Double or nothing," Axl said.

"What?" said Mako, caught off-guard.

"You got lucky," Axl maintained, "and my friend had a bad bounce. I want another shot at you. Double or nothing."

Several reploids couldn't conceal their scoffs at Axl's words. Mako hesitated only a moment before a smile creased his face. "Sure, whatever you say," he said. "You okay with me breaking?"

"Taking turns sounds fine," Axl answered. "Fire away!"

The second game was as quick and merciless as the first. Mako sunk a ball off the break and built that into a three-ball first turn. Zero sank one on a ricochet. On his next shot, he sent the cue ball skipping off the table, causing a brief scramble to retrieve it. He never got to shoot again. Five thunks later, it was over.

"Your first shot was pretty solid," Mako said graciously. The crowd was not as gracious. "But it takes more than one good shot to take me down."

That actually wasn't true, tactical noted, but Zero kept his mouth shut.

"Triple or nothing," Axl insisted.

There was outright laughter at this. Mako failed to hide his astonishment. "Are you for real?"

"He's got it in him," Axl insisted, putting a hand on Zero's shoulder. Again. Zero squirmed, especially when Axl began to rock the shoulder back and forth. "I know he does. We just need to draw it out of him. What better way to get him up to speed than to play the best? Triple or nothing."

Mako wavered for a bit, and for a moment Zero thought that Axl had spooked him. Then Mako's smile returned, larger and greedier than ever. "Fine by me," he said, as the crowd howled its approval. "Your friend breaks this time."

Zero's frown was deepening with every moment. "Hey, don't worry about it," Axl said. "It's not your money. Besides, I have total faith in you. My confidence is Absolute."

Zero relaxed.

The frown vanished from his face and his shoulders lost their tension.

Oh, good. That was the code phrase they'd worked out ahead of time. Time for the next phase of the plan. This part was _easy_.

He swiftly racked up the balls with ease and authority. He felt the difference in his movements. Mako surely saw it, too, even if the crowd didn't. Uncertainty flickered across his face.

Too late.

Zero placed the cue ball and, without so much as a rehearsal motion, sent it flying into the pack. There was an almighty crack that hushed the crowd at once. The balls ricocheted, with one landing decisively in a pocket. The cue ball had barely stopped moving before Zero struck it again. An answering thunk from another ball being pocketed was his answer.

With every movement the crowd somehow got more silent. Zero barely noticed. He was in his element, now.

Pool is a game of hand-eye coordination and trajectories. Zero was a melee-oriented warbot with exquisite targeting algorithms. Outside of combat, this was as close as he could get to home.

Thunk. Thunk-thunk.

Losing on purpose had taken all his concentration. It made him feel dirty, unnatural, and anxious all at the same time. Compared to that, being unleashed, living up to his name and capacity… that was a relief, that was a _joy_.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Game over.

Sighing in satisfaction, Zero straightened up and smartly rapped the butt of the cue stick on the floor. Disbelief was on every face in the hall—except for Axl's, which was shaking with suppressed laughter.

Zero allowed himself a slight smirk. "If you think _that_ was impressive, just be glad it wasn't table tennis."

Axl lost control of his laughter.

Then everything happened at once.

* * *

Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

Signas, Zero observed, hadn't yet perfected X's expectant silence—but he was getting there. The Commander of the Hunters was sitting on the other side of a table from Zero and Axl. One hand supported the side of his head; the other was tapping the table.

Tap-tap.

"What am I going to do with you two?" Signas asked hopelessly.

"Did we do something wrong?" Axl asked. His words were innocent. His voice dripped guilt.

Tap-tap. "Two dozen civilian reploids damaged, with severity ranging from cosmetic to structural."

"They attacked first," Zero pointed out. "And we didn't retire any. I thought we showed a lot of restraint."

"Extensive damage to the pool tables and other furniture, including destruction of half-a-dozen antique cue sticks."

"They weren't antiques," blurted Axl, unable to help himself. "They were bought factory-new two years ago—the owner of the place burned off the labels and then polished… uh…"

Apparently he'd realized that Signas' expression wasn't changing. He shut up.

Signas turned a datapad around so they could see a picture. "Zero, how did you do _that_ out of armor?"

"Quickly," said Zero. He was so busy admiring his own handiwork that it took him a few seconds to realize Signas was staring. Think of something… "But not easily," he added.

Signas closed his eyes and shook his head. "And now, there are rumors of Maverick activity—even virus activity—in that sector. After all, why else would two world-famous S-class Hunters be slumming it in a dive bar?"

Zero blinked. Axl was staring at the ground.

"So? Why _were_ two world-famous S-class Hunters slumming it in a dive bar?"

Axl's eyes flicked up at his commander. "Uh… soooo… do you know what a hustle is?"

"Light's tights," Signas swore, and buried his face in his palm. "Really? This was all just for the pleasure of bamboozling some pool players for loose change?"

"It was more than just loose change," Axl said.

Even Zero knew when his words were making his situation worse. Axl, apparently, hadn't built up that skill yet.

Signas fixed Axl with a stony gaze. "How much was it?"

"Uh… 8,000 zenny."

"Axl."

A headful of spiky hair jerked as Axl winced. "Ninety-six hundred," he amended. "8,000 was our net. It cost us sixteen to hook our shark."

"Wouldn't you know?" said Signas, retrieving his datapad and tapping a few times. "Ninety-six is the exact damages claim filed by the proprietor."

"Why that-!"

"Axl."

Axl flinched at the rebuke, and his head drooped. "Sorry," he muttered.

"You don't just have to apologize to me. You have to apologize to the other Hunters, since we're going to have to put that establishment on the do-not-access list now. You have to apologize to me again, since I'm going to have to invent some story to explain why you two were there without starting a virus panic. You have to apologize to the people who were hurt, and the owner of the bar."

"I hate saying sorry," Axl muttered.

"Then stop causing problems."

"~~," said Axl, which might have sounded like 'yes sir' if you really wanted it to.

"And, of course, I'll be confiscating the ninety-six to cover the damages."

Axl looked like he might object, but he caught Signas' expression. "~~."

"Honestly, Axl," said Signas, less formally and more exasperatedly, "can you tell me why you thought that was a good idea?"

"Well, back in—"

"…without saying 'that was how we did it in Red Alert'?"

"…uh… in that case, no."

"You're in the Hunters, now," Signas said. "You have been for a while. You need to act like it."

"But sir," Axl protested, "my whole fighting style is based on this sorta thing! I mean, me sneaking around, posing as our enemies, gathering intel, and then striking at the right moment, that's my whole thing. Couldn't we just say this was a practice run?"

"You had permission for this, then?" said Signas. "The other participants knowingly volunteered for it?"

Axl crossed his arms and pouted. "No, sir."

"You're in the Hunters now," Signas repeated. "You need to act like it."

"~~."

Zero could see Axl sulking. He frowned. Axl was, of course, totally guilty. He really ought to own that, bear it with more dignity.

"And Zero," Signas continued, "you're his superior officer, and you still enabled this… hustle."

Zero knew it would eventually be his turn. This wasn't anything he hadn't faced before. He nodded and curtly replied, "Yes, sir."

"This is not Hunter behavior."

Okay, that one stung. "No, sir," Zero said, but his voice had dropped in both tone and volume.

"I expect better from both of you," Signas said. "Consider yourselves confined to Base when not on mission for the next four weeks. We'll reevaluate then. And if you pull another stunt like going someplace outside Base without a very good reason for it, I'll have tracking devices welded to your carapaces."

"No problem," Axl said briskly. "Those things break whenever I DNA-copy."

That made Zero want to wince on Axl's behalf. Axl hadn't learned—might never learn—when compliance was the easiest course. At least he recognized what it meant when Signas' hands tightened to fists. "Wh-what I mean is, we'd hate for you to have to do that."

Signas sighed. He gave them a final, reproachful look, then said, "You're dismissed."

They slouched into the hallway. There was no rush. Where would they go?

"Axl," Zero said, "did you know those reploids would jump us when the hustle played out?"

Axl contrived to look sheepish. "Well... I didn't _know_. We could've expected it, I guess." He looked up at Zero, his expression unexpectedly shrewd. "Why? Would it have changed your decision to come along?"

Zero decided he didn't want to answer that. It was a little too close to home. "At least the scolding wasn't so bad," he said instead.

"No, it wasn't," agreed Axl. "Just a wirebrushing. A surface-level sting with no permanent damage."

"We're just lucky I had contingency plan six ready to go. And now… well, I didn't want to leave Base anyway."

"That part is a bummer," Axl admitted.

"Not to mention you're out ninety-six hundred zenny," Zero pointed out.

Axl shrugged. "Easy come, easy go. It was never mine anyway."

"Plus the sixteen you used as bait," Zero added.

"Who said that was my money?"

Zero's mouth opened, shut, opened again. "You know what? Don't talk for a while."

"~~."

* * *

_If Zero is the Red Demon and X the Avenging Angel, Axl is an imp—someone who can't help but make trouble. It's his nature._

_This is well outside my typical scope, as I concentrate on a pre-X5/no-virus 'verse, and you can't get to Axl from there. No characters in my standard canon make the plot work, though. X doesn't go hustling. Rekir wouldn't dare manipulate his boss like that. Most other Hunters are too wary of or distant from Zero to fit the role. Only Iris could possibly fit the Axl role here, and Iris wouldn't want to visit that sort of joint. Now, Shattered!Iris is a separate case…_

_This being set in the main canon also lets Zero be a little more perceptive/understanding of social stuff, so I wrote him a little differently than I normally do. _

_Maybe the description of Zero's "camouflage" reminded you of something. Perhaps it reminded you of the civilian clothes of a different cool, precise Wily creation who wore his sunglasses at night… in which case, you got me._


End file.
